As if he saw that it was useless to begin any conversation until Mr. Nesbit’s personal menagerie was quieted, the smaller man said nothing, and for some minutes the two ate in silence. At last, with a sigh of pleasurable relief, James Nesbit pushed himself back from the table and set down the empty tankard with a bang.
“Your news first,” he said. “What is it, Friend Conyngham?”
“I have been successful,” was the rejoinder. “She’s not very large, but is prepossessing to look at, and they say a good one in smooth water. Tho’ only a coaster brig we think she’ll serve our purpose, and as no time was to be lost I have concluded the bargain. She is ours in joint ownership.”
“You have been deft, David,” said Mr. Nesbit, “but there is a matter of more importance, in view of the shortness of the time. Have you found the man?”
“The very one; at least believe me that I am influenced but by my best judgment. You’ve heard me speak of him often. My kinsman, Gustavus. He is just in yesterday from a voyage to the West Indies, with a load of fruit, rum, and molasses.”
“The same young seaman who married Mistress Anne Hockley some time ago?”
“The same. The captain of the Molly.”
“I would he had brought in a cargo of powder and cannon-balls. Aye, or saltpeter and cloth and medicines. We’ll need them, for mark my words——”
“Hush,” interposed Mr. Conyngham suddenly. “Your old enemy, that tory, Lester, and Flackman the lawyer, have just entered. They are a-prowl for news, I take it.”
Mr. Nesbit lowered his voice.